Memory blanks

The Stroke Ward then Care Home

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

First, I’d like to explain that as bad as I thought my Stroke was at the time, after being taken to the Queens Medical Centre, diagnosed with having had an Embolic stroke, I thought I’d been lucky. Then I was transferred to the Newell Stroke Ward at the Nottingham City Hospital; I soon realised it was not bad at all!

The event took place while I was in the land of nod. I woke to find myself all disoriented, dizzy, and confused. I was sprawled half-in, half-out of the ÂŁ300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner. Unable to sit up at all, I was lolling to my right. Actually, I thought I might be dreaming at the time and sort of waiting for the fog to clear – of course, it didn’t. The most embarrassing thing in my life (Bar one, but I’ll not mention that!)…

Mass Bodily Fluids Flood – The deluge!
Miss this first section if you are queasy!

(A lifesaver, thanks to Nottingham City Homes!)  And the deluge came! Trying to work out what was happening and pondered on whether to press the Medical Alarm Wristlet button…

Every part of my body that could leak leaked! This was without any warning and so rapid, even the tears that eructed out and I think missed the face cheeks it was so violent. The nose ran, sweat poured from all over, I dribbled from the mouth – but the worst two of all – the bowel evacuation almost shot out, and the wee-weeing too! (at The QMC later, the Doctor said that my ear wax turned to liquid?)

Even pressing the alert button was hard work; I was swaying about and fell out of the chair onto the floor as I got to the control and pushed it. Then found out I could not talk to the controller who answered the alarm!

QMC – Then City Hospital Stroke Ward

Yet I was aware of the mess I was in and ashamed! But I was talking again, but so aware of how I must have looked and smelt! A blank spell from then on until I was being pushed into the scan room at the Queens Medical Centre.

Memory went until I was in an ambulance on the way to the City Hospital stroke ward, The Newell Ward. They kept taking me for e-rays and scans for the day, but I can now recall little of the processes.

Sister Jane and Pete turned up later. Having been to the flat and cleaned up the mess I had made – Bless Them!  So many of the patients were in a much worse condition than I was, which made me realise how lucky I had been. Walking again needed some therapy, and since then, I have started stuttering. With Peripheral Neuropathy diagnoses two weeks earlier, walking ever since is a challenge nowadays. But it could have been so much worse!

One morning, a new patient arrived. He looked like the spitting image of Tyson Fury. They had to move some beds to make room for him, which he was wheeled in on.

Then The Wailing Nights Began!

For about ten hours every single night – for fifteen of them, the poor chap would start calling out for his Mummy! No one else got any sleep! But it was not his fault, naturally. The insults being thrown out to him from other patients desperately needing sleep obviously made no difference.

After the first two or three nights, Tyson (I never knew his name, I can’t remember it if I did), who had been placed near the door, opposite the rota board, realised he could see the names of the other patients, and he would go through everyone… ‘Bill, Bill, help me!’ ‘Malcolm, I need help, fetch my Mum, please!’ ‘Dennis, call for my Mum, I beg you!’ And so forth… then start again repeatedly for hours longer!

The insults and lousy language slowly got worse as the frustrations grew in the other occupants. “F’ing shut your F’ing Gob!” and “Oi… shitting nob-rot, shut the F’s up” are two that come to mind, of the many. Although I had sympathy and empathy with Tyson’s plight and had resisted joining in the angry banter… on the last the 15th night, I very nearly did, but I didn’t.

Unfortunately, they gave me Clopidogrel to help prevent any more blood clots. Then found out I had an allergy to them. Hence the ankle ulcer and extra bloated feet and legs.

Move Me To A Nursing Home

I was so relieved when a doctor told me that they were desperate for beds for new stroke victims. Relieved? Ha! Had I known what was to come, I would have refused to go! They would be moving me later in the day into a Nottingham City Homes care home for a couple of months.

The single room, with adjoining WC with a shower, was nice and snug. There were no shortages of residents to come in and have a look around and help themselves to anything they fancied. Amongst the things that went missing were one hearing aid, pens, biscuits and a pair of socks. I later saw a bloke wearing the easily identifiable diabetic bamboo socks. My Get Better Teddy Bear from TFZer Pattie in Canada disappeared, but I found it in the TV room?

The routine went like this:

  • A carer would come in to help me get the ankle strap on each morning. They all got it wrong, nearly crippled me! Hehe! The door would open (no locks), and a mystery voice would yell out, ‘Breakfast in ten!’ Then give me the medications. I missed many breakfasts.
  • Occasionally a cleaner would come in to ‘do’ the toilet and moan if I’d left any shaving foam in the sink or floor.
  • The midday food summoning would be something like “Tea!”, “Food!” or “Nosh” followed by the estimated time I have to be down for. I missed a few meals.
  • Evenings, medications and taking the ankle strap off.

Inchcock with his retrieved Teddy Bear! ♥

I was told not to leave the site at any time. During the nine weeks, I was there, my laundry was only returned to me three times. Sister Jane and Pete kept me supplied with socks and shirts from the flat. They asked me to make a statement for the police when a bloke attacked a woman with a knife.

If nothing else, this experience has made me all the more determined to avoid going into a care home.

In a Repeated Dream

For several weeks after leaving the Car Home, and Jane and Pete returning me to the flats, I had a repeating dream… I would be leaving the hospital… with the Grim Reaper calling me back to the Stroke Ward. I don’t think it got to me badly, but I was glad when they stooped! (Watch it now, the bloody thing will start again!) Haha!

Part of the Inchcock True Tales of Woe & Make E’m Laugh Series!

A Long Hobble to the Doctors – Guess who forgot to take his camera?

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the ObergrĂĽppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were ÂŁ4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.

Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

Puggleclumpdimwit!

Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me ÂŁ280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,

They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,

With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!

T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…

He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!

I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…

Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and ObergruppenfĂĽrher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.

As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?

An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly ÂŁ11 for something that has been sent to me?

He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.

The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.

I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.

Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!

I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!

Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.

Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.

Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…

Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!

I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.

I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!

I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.

Boy, did I feel a fool!

I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.

Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!

I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.

The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.

The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.

The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!

My Luck Changed!

I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.

It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.

I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!

Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.

I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.

While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?

Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.

Plans For My Next Failed Escape Bid!

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

Last evening, my beautiful Caring Carer, Julia and I made a plan to enable my escape from this lockdown in the flat, and get outside, and have a hobble into Sherwood! Thus I can avoid the ObergruppenfhĂĽreress’s and Lap-Top Dancers, Deana and Julie, on my way out!

After Julia had tended to my medicationalisationing, she asked me the questions about what meds I’d taken other the those on the list, filled in her report (That’s the one that no one has ever read yet!). Checked on the supply of drugs in the kitchenette drawer, she explained her plan for my escape from the lockdown. Julie departed, taking the waste bags with her, to the rubbish chute for me. Bless her cotton socks! And leaving an elderly dithering tenant, feeling sad at her departure. (I always think this way when a good, kind carer goes me, Tsk!) I decided to write down the scheme for Wednesdays Great Escape to Sherwood! I had a sense, a feeling, that Julia’s ideas were going to be so doable and workable.

Unfortunately, within seconds of the Carers’ departure, I had an unwelcome ‘Haze-Over’ attack. Not sure how long it lasted, but I seem to have lost possibly a couple of hours of memory. (Although they did partly return in the morning, which is not a rarity) Later on, I found myself sitting in the recliner with the TV on. With crumbs over my large blobby-like belly (bits of Twiglets in the folds? As I woke and returned to life, of sorts, I was feeling great! Almost clear-headed. And I soon worked out that I still had time to catch the bus down to Sherwood… But, no!

Closing down the computer to get things ready for my breakout, I saw several emails coming in. One from Amazon, concerning two deliveries, the one in the photo was the tracking of the Morrison delivery, which I was confident that I’d made it for next week… It was apparently just a few minutes away from being delivered. The other regarding deliveries that are due tomorrow… This put the kybosh on my escaping today and now tomorrow as well! Obviously, another Whoopsiedangleplop on my behalf!

Hello, the delivery is here now… I’ll be back…

Hehehe! I’m back! A young lady delivered the four parcels of fodder, putting them through the doorway for me. I fell in love with her straight away, had it not been that I am about 60 years older than what she looked, six inches shorter, wore PPs, was bald, sight-impaired, deaf, and nearly as attractive to women as Lillie Savage… I momentarily thought about asking her if she fancied a cuddle, massage or petting… but I thought better of it no point in risking prison at my time of life.

I thanked her, and off she shot. I took the bags through to the kitchenette, and I popped into the wet room for a wee-wee.

And this one was one of the worst I’ve suffered for flipping weeks, or even longer!

I tore at my clothing to get at Little Inchie, dropped the trees on the floor, and prepared for the torrent to come…

But it didn’t! I could feel the urine building up increasingly more painful pressure… all I could do was wait for it to do its own thing – any pushing from me was just unbearably hurtful, so I waited…

And waited a little longer. Sang a song, whistled, prayed… Eventually, it felt like a couple of days later, the tsunami evacuated!  Agony! Whoosh! Splashback like never before, I had to take a shower to clean up my anaemic looking flabby body and then get the wet room disinfected.  I now seriously fear the next wee-wee session! But the relief when it had finally passed almost sent me dizzy, if that’s the word.

Now, having spent an hour or so weeing and sorting things out, I realised that the frozen food in with the other groceries will not be frozen any longer! I hastened to get at it as quickly as I could to get in the freezer.

I gave the big toe a bashing against the server trolley wheel – Now I’m getting annoyed with things! 

However, I continued to get the purchases away, starting with the now unfrozen frozen foods. Luckily, there were only two frozen items, well, previously frozen items to go in the freezer.  The now liquid in the bag Twister lollies, and a box of beef in gravy, I poured them into the freezer… A joke there, did you see that? Despite such a bad morning, I’m intent on keeping up my pecker! Although, I am not too confident of my chances after the next wee-wee arrives. Ahem!

The sight of the ready-made meals brought a warm glow to my stomach. WW Chillie and wedges, Roast Vegetable Risotto, and the Chicken dinner substituted with Beef & Black beans, Shepherd’s pie, and Creamy Chicken & Leek. Even though they had not got any of those, I ordered, and they were all substituted. Morrison Cottage pie, by Kirsty’s red potato Cottage Pie (might be nice that?).

Not that I seemed bothered this time, the memory of the disastrous tsunami-wee-out now! Imagine that happening when I was out and about! The thought of it makes me shudder!

Haha! The fridge stocks are looking healthier now, anyway. Milk, bread in the freezer, I’ll certainly not starve for a bit.

Took this shot of the end car park through the balcony window. It was far too windy for me to open the window.

Oh, oh, I want another pee! With apprehension, I took it. Well, well well, what a difference that was! Heavy flow, but nothing oke as vicious as the last one was! I was delighted with the improvement and almost total lack of any pain. Shame about the lengthy PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Views From The Kitchenette Window

I viewed the colourful evening skies,

Somehow they appeared to be wise,

And I observed clouds like eyes,

Winter’s coming; I’ll need to acclimatise!

The photo above, lips and two eyes, large in size,

Those clouds make me want to enigmatise?

I find myself also wanting to somatise,

Natures beauty makes me realise…

Mankind knows nothing, weather forecasts-wise,

I see amazing skies, from this flat in the highrise,

These views make me want to prioritise…

To stop, look, dream, and rhapsodise!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Hunger Pangs Satisfied

Made some cheesy instant mash potato and two beef pasties and plated them. Dolloped some Hickory Smoked BBQ sauce and a few slices of bread. A pot of custard & jelly (Classy, innit?), and another pot of lemon mousse. Nowt fanciful on that plate, but I ate the lot. Taste Rating 7.2/10.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe Series

Intense Inchy: Wednesday 17th March 2021 Diary

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 17th March 2021

Swahili: Jumatano Tarehe 17 Machi 2021

01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?

I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.

Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!

Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!

As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.

Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!

To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).

I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.

I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?

You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…

So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!

I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.

Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.

I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!

Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)

Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.

The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…

What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit,  I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥

Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about ÂŁ2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!

My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!

Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!

Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!

I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.

The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking ÂŁ79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.

A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!

.

Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.

Good heavens, what next will I come across?

Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!

I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.

Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?

So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!

My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.

I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.

I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.

Got the nosh sorted. 3Wed28

No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!

Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing

Sod it!

Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused
Too much to take in, so I leaving.

Inputted Inchy – Tuesday 16th March 2021 Dairy

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

♥ TFZer Lillies Famous Lakeside Teas ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 16th March 2021

Spanish: Martes 16 de Marzo de 2021

023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).

I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.

I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.

The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.

Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.

I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.

It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!

I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.

Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!

The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!

The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.

I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!

I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.

Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!

Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.

I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.

I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…

Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.

The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.

No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!

As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…

So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!

No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.

I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.

I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!

I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!

Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!

I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.

The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!

I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?

All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.

How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?

Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?

The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.

When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!

I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.

As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.

The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!

I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.

Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.

I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!

Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.

I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.

While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!

So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!

I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!

I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!

As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥

I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!

Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.

Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.

Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!

Impacable-Inchy – Monday 15th March 2021 Diary

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

♥ A Touch of TFZer Class, here! ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 15th March 2021

WELSH: Dydd Llun 15fed Mawrth 2021

23:05hrs: I woke-up, requiring a wee-wee. Thus, I fought my sadly overly-stomached, jelly-like bellied body out of the recliner, wobbled onto my painful feet (*with the painful over-long, toe-nails), and caught my balance and grabbed Metal Mickey.

I limped to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), expected a liquid surge to blast out, but only got a WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) outpouring.

Went to empty and sanitise the bucket and needed another wee-wee while washing my hands from the first one! A WDFL mode (Weak-Sprinkling-Fountain-Like) evacuation! Rewashed the hands, and changed PP’s, then off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I took this picture of the cloudy night sky from the window.

I noticed how I had still got the watch on and also how red the skin was looking?

Made the brew, had another wee-wee (Tsk!) and got the Health Checks sorted out. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd), had the SYS 148, DIA 77, and the Pulse a little higher at 93bpm.

The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer gave a 37.2°c – 98.96°f, which was not too bad at all!

I went on the NHS site and but the program’s BP results and got this resulting graphic. Which I copied and pasted. The BP was rated as a little better than yesterdays.

But not to get too excited, it’s still in the High Blood Pressure level. Tsk!

Microsoft Excel allowed me access, and I updated the Health log. The pulse showed up as in the amber, but that’s better than the red ones earlier in the week.

I had to have yet another wee-wee! But this time, I checked the colour against the NHS Healthy Wee card.

I’d come right down from Level Six yesterday, Very Dehydrated; To level four – just dehydrated! So that was hopeful!

I made another brew of Glengettie tea, and I took yet another weak wee-wee, then got the photographs uploaded and tweaked for yesterdays and this diary.

I concentrated on updating the Sunday post. It took me a few hours, but I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link and Pinterested some snaps.

I went on Facebook catching up (three wee-wees!) A big job this morning; I’d missed some things off yesterday, Humph! Then the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room, I limped, with the toes really playing up and stinging now?

The Throne session was not a good one at all!

  • Luckily, I didn’t delay getting to the Throne, and as I sat myself down, the flow began!
  • Then it stopped sharply. I got the pen and crossword book.
  • A minute later, it started again.
  • I could tell by the feel of things that it was a Trotsky Terence dominated affair!
  • I rose to look at the damage and was shocked by the amount of almost liquid evacuated red and black coloured stuff in the bowl!
  • This, of course, did not clear on the first flush. Not even the second and third either.’
  • Many manual tank refills by jug from the sink were needed, at least four, I reckon! I’m getting fed-up with having to do this!
  • As I was putting the lid back on and replacing the removed items, a sudden pain underfoot arrived?
  • I’d trodden on the pen! Smashed it, naturally!
  • Hurt the foot, goes without saying really, sorry.
  • I replaced the none-working radio and clock, toilet rolls, and kitchen towels. I’m getting fed-up with having to do this hemerine every morning! Still, I mustn’t complain, things could be worse, and they have been regularly! Humph!
  • Had a final wash, checked the taps (faucets) were not running, and back to the computer.

I went to take the morning medications, swallowing a Numark Anti-Diahorrea tablet with the others, and pressed-on with perusing and commenting on the new posts folks had posted. Next, I read and replied to some WP comments that had come in.

Then I needed another wee-wee! I mean, why? I’m only passing dribbles, but very often. With bother of intermittent PMDing (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling)! Oh, my, the whipper-snappers don’t know what’s coming to them in later life, poor things! Well, poor me, too! Hahaha!

After a few more spelling and grammar errors, it was time for the ablutions to be tackled. As seems usual lately, I got side-tracked and wandered of to wash the thick quilted jacket. I left it soaking in fabric softener and got to the wet-room for a jolly good. Much needed, cleaning up session.

Which went amazingly well! It was as if SSS and Nicodemus had turned themselves off, out of pity, to dissimulate their real intentions or to have me over on the floor later, I’m not sure, yet. Hahaha!

Sure, there were a good few dropsies, but nothing harmful, dangerous, overly painful, or even irking! It was as if an angel had got my back! It went so smoothly, I started to feel worried at the sheer unnaturalness of it. The drying-off was easy-peasy, no falls, no bangs! Even the medicationalisation was done without hassle or Accifauxpas! But, I chickened-out at putting any socks on, no point in pushing my luck too far; I felt sure I could hear a disappointed sigh from Sock-Glide-Glenda?.

I poked the new mark on the right foot, no pain at all, no itching either. I put some cream on it, but it turned a mustard colour, and it was a clear gel? But again, painless! Things can’t go on like this!

I got the handwashing rinsed and fabric-softened, wrung, hung and all done, hung them on coat hangers above the sink. The thick quilt shirt come jacket is going to take some drying. It should be ready to wear by the end of November, I think. Hehe!

My next task was getting the waste bags sorted out and made-up, and getting them in the box on the walker-guide trolley. Not an easy task! Bt the time I’d sorting myself out, there were two more bags to be added!

Trying to escape with the walker from the flat, I had a bit of bother. The box fell off, but I was in good spirits, if nervous, with the good luck… well, absence of bad-luck I’d had this morning. I soon got them back in the box and on the trolley walker.

I poddled along the length of the lift lobby and got into the room with, again, relative ease. Got all the bags down the chute, without any trapped fingers, dizzy’s, falls, trips, bangs, or knocks either!

Then, I bravely went down in the lift, on my way to visit the ICL, wardens interrogation room to advise them of the arrival of the Easter Eggs coming tomorrow. Well, that’s if Iceland and Sainsbury’s don’t substitute anything like pickled walnuts or toothpaste for them! Hahaha! But my main aim was to get some photographs of the Winwood Heights complex and get a natter in with somebody.

Which, after getting no answer to my phone call and no one in the office, I did on my walk back to the block of flats. The glass must be busy.

The top photo I took as I hobbled to the office, the regular bus out trippers were there on there way to the bus stop. Christine and Roy, and Angela were there, but I got no response to my greetings. Chance are they didn’t hear me, and I didn’t them. Hehehe! Old age, eh?

On the way back to Woodthorpe, I took a Winchester Court shot on the other side of the Walk, then Winwood Court, then my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park area. I’ll try ringing Deana, or whoever is in, later; I need to find out when the subsequent prescriptions are due and if I have an appointment for when the foot lady starts working again, tomorrow or not. The toenails are getting a bit painful now.

I got in the flat, having actually talked with no one, failed again!), and made an Iceland order up.

I found an easy method on the web of making pickled vinegar. Then, I added some bits to Sainsbury’s order. I put on some distilled pickling, wine and balsamic vinegar. I hope I can use dried dill in it, but I’ll give it a go. I’ve never had pickled vinegar and look forward to trying to make some. I’ll have all needed, I think, to give it a go. The vinegar, salt, sugar, black pepper, and a screw lid jar, but no fresh dill, just dried. Slicing the cucumber might be a bit risky, cut-finger-wise, though. Haha! I’ll ask the ailments to be incredibly kind to me when I make it.

Then I pondered over what I was going to have for today’s meal. After a bit of oohing and aahing, I decided to use up the last of the garden peas in a Chilli con carnie, and add passata with basil, to it. I took a packet of whole bread thins from the freezer to defrost on the window’s shelve.

Went on Gmail to see if owt had come in, and Jenny had sent one. Bless her, I replied, thanking her. Then I had a look for any WordPress comments, and I responded to it. Much time was spent trying to master the Kodak camera, far too long, without any progress being made. But, in the morning, I plan to use Kodak again – I’m determined to mast it! But don’t really expect to!

Then I went into mind-changing, Dithering mode again! I redecided over the meal. The peas, tomatoes and cooked meat, potato salad, roast onions, Marmite cheese, caramelised red onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins, chestnuts, and a custard & jelly dessert instead.

And by golly, it went down well! It took me some getting through, but I gave it a deserved flavour rating of 7/10. Ate it all bar the last slice of wholemeal bread thins!

Miraculously, the wee-wee I had after washing the pots was the last one of the day!

I reckon I settled down and had an uninterrupted straight five hours of heavenly bliss with Sweet Morpheus. Waking up, desperate for a wee-wee…

Impugner Inchy – Sunday 14th March 2021 Diary – I so dislike Sundays!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Sunday 14th March 2021

German: Sonntag, 14 März 2021

00:25hrs: I woke, worrying, fretting and almost panicking about life’s lousy leanings… But not for too long, a wee-wee was required, and the PMD (Pre Micturition Dribbling) could be sensed arriving.

Thus the swiftest-for-months escape from the recliner was performed, balance caught, and over to the already nearly full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A tight, trickling, stinging, spraying all-over wee-wee was taken; that didn’t last for long. So many followed, but I’ll not mention each one, Haha!

As I was taking the bucket to the wet room for emptying, sanitising and cleaning, it became apparent to me that I needed to use the Porcelain Throne. So, I did! And what a difference this time! A draw between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad! Resulting in my having to wait for ages for things to start, despite the inner rumbling. So long that I got the crossword book out – mind you, I couldn’t get any clues answered, Tsk! When the motions began, so did the pain from my having to force things along, yet seconds alter the splattering, then the slashing into the bowl, signalled the end of the action?

Then the hard work had to be done. The tank was refilled three times, four-flushes, and a lot of cleaning up was needed. Then the emptying, cleaning and sanitising of the NWWB had to be done. I was knackered, and I’d only been up for about 20-minutes! I was glad I’d remembered to order some more toilet rolls next Tuesday twixt 08:00 > 09:00hrs, from Sainsbury’s. That is if they have some in stock, of course.

If not, they may send me some brown shoe polish or cough medicine as one of their infamous substitutes, I suppose. Snigger!

I went on the computer and started updating the Saturday Diary. The internet was slow this morning. But I pressed on and got it finished and posted off to WordPress. Then, I Pinterested some pictures and onto the WordPress Reader section. As I moved onto the Facebooking catch-up…

Took the missed earlier evening medications. And I put the kettle on. Had a wee-wee of a much different variety this time of the unexpected PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. The pitiable but heartbreaking Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet came back on, of its own accord. A miracle?

Made the mug of Glengettie tea and went back onto the Facebooking. After a half-hour or so…

  They pay ÂŁ23.4b to buy Virgin Media. Now, they merge with Telefonica’s British mobile company O2, in a deal worth ÂŁ24Billion! The boss man Fries is on a salary of $2.4m, a $5m bonus for signing a new contract, stock awards of $79m, options worth $20.2m, and cash bonuses of $15.3m, plus expenses! Of course, I’m not jealous or anything like that! But I do wish he could get his bloody internet to work correctly!

I got around to doing the Health Checks at long last.

The old Boot’s made in China Sphygmomanometer showed up a slight increase in the BP figures. SYS up to 160, DIA to 71, but the PULSE down to 81bmp.

The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer was in the green once more, at a reasonable 36.7°c – 98.6°f.

I managed to beat Microsoft again and gained access to my Excel HC listings to update them.

Fair enough, both Excel and Word blogged access later on in the day to me!

I put the BP figures into the NHS site and got this reading on the right back.

Still not good, is it, being in the Red still! Hey-ho! I did mention this to the nurse last week but got no response, so I assumed it must be okay.

I had a wee-wee of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy) type, and back to the WP Comments and answering for a while.

Made a brew, got some biscuits and took a break for a while. The sunshine was coming out, the winds were howling, the ‘Hum’ was getting much louder, and started sneezing again?

I felt a lot better than I was yesterday, but the wobbles and weariness started about midday. Hopefully, and peradventure, it will not return again today… but it is a Sonnertag, so anything can happen!

I got a decent bit of handwashing done, rinsed, wrung and hung above the kitchen sink. Mostly thick clothing, so it’ll take a few days to dry-off properly.

Started the ablutions! Which produced some slightly annoying and comical happenings.

The toes were hurting when I took off the socks; the getting ever longer nails were starting to curve in and out. For the life of me, I can’t remember who cut them for me last time? Really sad, innit?

The session went well, other than the dropsies were more than ever before, not Nicodemus to blame this time, but the violent SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). Although she calmed down later, nicely.

I got all sorted and showered after the session. Did the medications and started to get dressed. I opted to put some short cotton socks on to avoid using Sock-Glide-Glenda. (Yes, as cowards go, I’m up there with the best! Hahaha!) I got them on without any tumbles, but it was a painful experience.

I opened the pack of Tena PPs, to find they were of a different colour and pattern. Then realised on the label it said ‘Sport Pants’? They were smaller than the usual ones, and as I pulled them up, my fingers went through the toilet-paper like thin fabric! I was most disappointed, but I saw the funny side of the farce. Expensive job this! I also noticed the flobby, rotund wobbly belly was getting far too extensive now! I must cut down on the comfort food! I can’t believe I wrote that? Hehe!

I spent the next hour or so prepping Josie’s Sonnertag lunch. I washed up as I went along as best I could and had very few dropsies. Thus, I was a little impressed with myself for doing so. Then I presented the fodder to Josie at her front door, dead on the designated delivery time! She gave it a quick inspection, and the gal seemed happy with it.

I got the waste bags sorted out and filled, well, overfilled the box on the walker-guide. (Actually, I forgot all about doing this and left them there, not taking them out to the waste-room chute! In the morning, they were still there awaiting my attention) Hahaha!

I went into the wet room for a wee-wee on the way back, and as I opened the door to enter, A wanton, involuntary right leg Neuropathy Pete Schuhplattler dance erupted out of the blue! Luckily, no injuries this time or falling over. Just a little clout to the side of my head and earhole on the doorframe. It could have been a lot worse!

As I was washing the hands after the wee-wee, the weariness syndrome arrived. So, I thought I’d better get my nosh sorted before I fade too much. So, I did!

I made a few Dagwood style sarnies, with milk roll bread, beef and tomatoes: some potato salad, cheesy mash, garden peas, and a few vinegar-flavoured chip-sticks. Got settled in the c1968 recliner and slowly masticated away at the fodder on the tray. Flavour rating 7/10, the Iceland cooked pork was very thin and bland in the extreme, in fact, horrible and papery tasting to me! A shame that!

I washed the pots, wrung out the water from the hanging washing, had a wee-wee, and settled down to watch the TV. I checked the listings first – what a load of rubbish! Apart from a football match between Southampton and Brighton & Hove Albion, it was not worth watching. When the game had finished, I thought I’d put on a DVD… but the weariness was gripping me now, and I drifted off into a dream-filled slumber for a few minutes or so.

Being woken up by the pain from the toes as I moved my legs under the quilt. I’d got the camera on the Ottoman, so I took this photo of the pain-giving toenails! Why they were so bad, I didn’t know. I took off the socks, and they didn’t seem excessively long? But tender they were. Perhaps it was the old cotton socks that had irritated things?

I got up for a wee-wee (fed-up with this!) and resettled, suffered a Thought Storm, and flowed body and mind into the arms of Sweet Morpheus.

Idiotic-Inchcy – Saturday 13th March 2021 Diary

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Saturday 13th March 2021

Croatian: Subota, 13 OĹľujka 2021

00:00hrs: Considering the truly low and depressed mood I found myself in last night, as I stirred into semi-life, I was suddenly aware that the gloom and doom tormenting my brain was gone, disappeared, no longer there! I found this rather flummoxing.

I was baffled as to why? Nothing had changed from yesterday. Had I been dreaming, and that may have had some effect in cheering me up? Was it the bang on the head when I took my tumble that brought it on in the first place? Hello, I’d better get up; I don’t want to encourage any Thought Storms! I need a wee-wee anyway.

I freed my overweight, flobby-stomached body from the ÂŁ300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with absolute ease – until I got the weight on the knees! Argh! Cathy Cartilage on the right knee, and Arthur Itis on the left one, were both so painful and in a bad mood with me this morning. The few hurtful paces to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) indicated that this will be a less-than-easy hobbling about Saturday.

I fumbled about to get Little Inchie out and realised as I did so, the NWWB was over half full? Why does this happen so often? I must have made many trips to release this much wee-wee overnight? Yet I cannot recall getting up at all to do so? The pain I must have got from Arthur and Cathy getting out of the recliner so often, I’d have thought I would have been made me aware of what I was doing? My mind was soon cleared of this question, as the embarrassment of a somewhat significant amount of PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) escaped into the half down PPs. By bottom-lip protruded, and after finishing, I took the bucket to the wet room for emptying and sanitising and got a clean-up and got a new pair of PPs on.

It’s time and incidents like this that really bring it home to one; the body is doing its own thing, the brain’s logicality loses its way, the memory is fading fast and now avoiding most of its retention powers. The bones, joints, and ticker etc., are crumbling without mercy. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain, does yer!

I got the kettle on to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and it sounded like someone had just turned the volume up on the ‘World-Wide-Hum’; Gawd, it was loud! And the heaters were not working again? Worra, life! But I imagine that there are many people in the complex in this position, not that it cures anything, but, at least, I am still aware of my senility is en route. I worry for the future, though. Blooming cold in here again! Weekend, of course, so no one to help me out with getting the heaters also going correctly.

Had another wee-wee of the IRPT (Indefatigably-Relentless-Painful-Trickling) mode.

I took the morning medications, then got the Health Checks done. The temperature was alright this morning; it seems to be getting steadier now. Of course, I shouldn’t have said that; it was silly of me! 36.7°c – 98.06°f. It was in the green, so it should be acceptable.

The Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings were decent, methinks. SYS 150, DIA 71, and the Pulse was at 84 bpm. As I was taking this, a headache came on suddenly, sharp to the right side of the head – then a minute later, it was gone?

Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel to update the Health Checks listing figures.

Do you see that? Three, in-the-green temperatures on the trot there! Much better than earlier in the week.

I had another wee-wee, surprisingly, of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style. Then made a start on the updating of the Friday Diary. Sorted the photographs out first, then got the scripting done. The ailments of concern were just two; Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters letting me down a few tines, and of course the SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) in support, but a lot less bothersome than she was yesterday. I perseverated and got it finished but had to have four wee-wees during the three hours of writing and correcting—all of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy). I’m getting variety today, at least. Haha!

As I put the kettle on in the cold, shiver-giving kitchen (Heater still not working), I had to nip off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What going on here! Constipation Konrad seems to be fighting back? Heck of a job to get things moving, and it was gooey yet solid? The toilet rolls will have to be ordered today; if I can get a slot for an A.M. delivery. A good clean up, and pleasingly, the evacuated produce was cleared with just two flushes!

I had a wash-up and had another wee-wee, this time of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. Another washing of the dandies, and back to the computer.

I Pinterested some snaps, Emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Spent a long time on that. Two WordPress comments had come in, which I replied to. Then I visited the WordPress Reader Section. I had another wee-wee of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode… I think we can assume that every half-hour or so throughout the day, I needed and took a wee-wee; it’ll save me a lot of typing. Tsk! Then:

I went onto the Sainsbury site to see what slots were attainable. I got a slot for Tuesday 16th @ 8>9a.m. Do you know, I made a mistake and ordered some Fresh Cream French Horns.

Brekkers sorted out. And from here on, it is hit and misses, memory-wise, very patchy. Sorry.

Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so good, perplexed, and tired out.

I had a weariness-attack, and I just turned off the computer and sat down on the recliner for many hours, watching some banal crap on the TV, but I couldn’t understand why. Doing nothing but grow fat by nibbling biscuits, crisps, ice-cream as well, I think?

The need for the Porcelain Throne then forced me to get up. I ached all over, was coughing and sneezing and felt under the weather, and confused. For some reason, I found out in the morning, I’d not cleaned up the wet room, Eurgh!

I actually made some more fodder! (I found this photo on the SD card). But can I remember making or eating it? No!

But I did find most of it in the bin later on in the night.

Along with this photo, taken through the balcony dividing glass? Not sure what, if anything, went on after that.

Mind you, Sunday morning, I did discover this snap on the camera-card. Also, that the fodder things were left loose in the sink bowel?

I’m sure that I sat down again, incapable of logical thought, and once more, spent hours just sat there, looking at the turned-off TV and fighting-off Thought-Storm-Thaddeus, but only half-heartedly. I think I was so down; I actually just accepted the self-criticisms, fears, worries etc., as a natural leveller, and a prevailing punishment, and part of my growing mental decrepitude.

The thought of having another banal Sunday to get through tomorrow was soul-destroying.

The resistant sleep did come eventually.